Here we go again as I catch up on some of the older QOTD games we play with our friends

I’ve got a theory that if you give 100% all of the time, somehow things will work out in the end.”

–Larry Bird, American basketball player and coach
(The first public basketball game was played on this day in 1892)

“Most things are just bullshit the only thing is peope seem to be comfortable with it becuase so very few poeple step up and yell Bull Shit.”

– Malflic, Immoral Compass and Motivational Coach

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.”

–Louis L’Amour, American author

“You’ve heard of the multi orgasmic woman?  Yeah I’ve even know some carnally if you know what I mean.  Now there was this one young lady  she either faked the bet orgasms ever or came when her panties were too tight becuase every time I thought it was my turn she’d start shaking all over again”

Malflic – Executive producer and stunt dick in the autobiographical porno the the Carmel Suitor.

“Much smoking kills live men and cures dead swine.”

–George D. Prentice, American newspaper editor
This quote is in honor of No Smoking Day .

“She didn’t just kill the batteries she short circuited the damn thing.  Literally the woman fucked the vibrator to death.”

–Malflic, World Renowned Sexual Gratification Device Researcher

“Being called very, very difficult is the beginning of success. Until you’re called very, very difficult you’re really nobody at all.”

–Bette Davis, American actress

“No she didn’t have Betty Davis eyes?  What the fuck does that mean anyway?  Besides I’m a Veronica Lake Kind of guy.  To me she was like the early Traci Lords.  Well minus all the fucking on camera”

–Malflic – King of Useless Comparisons and Repository of Useless Information

“Exaggerated sensitiveness is an expression of the feeling of inferiority.”

–Alfred Adler, Austrian doctor

“No really if science were worth anything I’d have a dick 17 inches long and a coke can wide”

–Malflic, the man who never quite understood why this offended his girlfriend of the era

“Courage is grace under pressure.”

–Ernest Hemingway, American author

“Its suppose to hurt it its S&M.  I’m the S and until 30 seconds ago I thought your were the M”

–Malflic,  Just another big S

“Where duty is plain, delay is both foolish and hazardous; where it is not, delay may be both wisdom and safety.”

–Tryon Edwards, American theologian

“What do you mean putting hard points into bedroom ceiling for suspension bondage doesn’t count as remodeling”

–Mal, Fashion Savvy Fetishist

“Whether you’re winning or losing, it is important to always be yourself. You can’t change because of the circumstances around you.”

–Cotton Fitzsimmons, College and NBA basketball coach

“I’m a Chameleon I think most people are the only difference is I admit that I go from sinner to saint on a regular basis  and unlike so many OI revel in roles both Divine and Wicked”

Mal – reigning deity and great tempter

f you happen to follow me on twitter or peruse my ranting blogs the fact is that I rant a fair amount about my life and surroundings.   The truth is is my reality isn’t most people’s reality and this offers a visual look into th every day coming and goings in my life.  There is no nudity, rope work, sex, kink, or faces.

I joke that I own a home that the Chesty Blonde and our children live in.  I live on airplanes and in rooms filled with strangers.  With rare exception my closest friends all live equally nomadic lives and we only ever see each other in other cities, usually at great hotels and excess filled events.  Its not a bad life if if it doesn’t kill you.

A chronic insomniac I collapse in exhaustion at the end of most days only to be wide awake 2-3 hours later with my mind racing.  Like a vampire or thief much of my public movement is done under the cover of night or before the first light of day. On this occasion I landed at night, met my driver and was whisked away in relative silence.  If you’ve been in the back on one black Lincoln you’ve been in the back of them all.  The outside world passes by as you struggle to control, survive and on occasion dominate your own little piece of reality.  What truly makes a difference in my day is the brief ability to on ocassion have a conversation with a real person.  Not someone who like me is whoring goods or services, their intellect or soul in the name of greed, profit and power.  No those people are are all waiting for me on the other side of that sedan’s door.  Lurking, Posturing, hoping and dreaming.  I know I’m just like they are when not hidden behind sunglasses and tinted windows.   A a good day is a few unexpected minutes with a friend or lover.  A driver who speaks  English and isn’t afraid to talk to me.   My favorite conversations are often 30 seconds exchanges on meaningless topics with strangers.

One of the reasons I chose to do the pictorial on this trip is it is the first one I’ve not had people in tow with in 8 months.  The collection of people who travel with me truly get more of my time than my own wife.   They are my friends and in many ways my own set of twisted but loved companions.    On this occasion I would arrive at my hotel, drop my bags and slip away into the shadows alone.   Sure its wasn’t my few hours of respite on the dark hidden underside of LA but rather in the Family Vacation capital of the world.  Still there had to be something dark out there waiting for me to indulge in.

As usual I was right.  There was trouble lurking right around the corner for me but it was not the kind of trouble I look to find.  I landed in a world  filled with Cheerleaders and their mom’s.  It was some national cheer and dance something or other.  It was a scene right out of the movie “Bring it On” and I was instantly in hell.  First because they were filling up every damn restaurant with in walking distance  and secondly 40 year old divorced stage mothers or worse the still married ones looking to cavort with a well dressed man aren’t exactly my type.  I was polite when one woman asked me to join her for dinner out of the blue as we walked from place to place looking for a table, essentially alone although we were walking almost together down the same street and into the same establishments.  She was pretty, very tall and platinum blond.  No rings on her fingers that mattered and her shoes cost more than mine which is always impressive.  So why did I say no?  Why wouldn’t I indulge in a little conversation, some harmless flirting, or even teeter on the edge of something more illicit?

One reason and one reason only I wanted to indulge in one of my lessor known obsessions.  One of my original Fetishes.  Music!

There is something   about being around a guitar that takes me back to a time when anything was possible and I was looking to sell my slightly less tarnished soul for something I loved and money was only going to be the by product.

Oh the stupidity of youth.  So as the music blared, Mothers and daughters shook their asses with joyous reckless abandon and I watched a pink caddie rotate above the bar.

The rest of the Story really isn’t much to tell beyond the pictures.

I had my one beer for the week with a salad for dinner. Not exactly a hedonist’s delight but on occasion I do what ever I can to prolong my own existence

Alone with a TV and all cell phones, Ip connections and computers off I enjoyed a few rare and sane moments of quiet.

The View from my room when the sun comes up was marvelous but soon enough I’d be clad in an over priced garment and a bold tie.  I would take a meandering route to the meeting rooms.  through the walk ways and through the paths in the gardens just so I could actually be outside and see the sun three times.

Soon after I would head into a room with no widows, a room  by its very design to eliminate all influences and possibly the existence of the outside world.

I would become an audience member in a room with 200 hundred people.  Usually I would know 150 of them but this time I only knew 15 its was as close to anonymous as I get to be in my Nilla life.   I wasn’t a scheduled speaker, I wasn’t the key note or even a break out topic I was in a relative sense just a normal soul.  This for me was an odd experience but a welcome one because rather than  shaking hands and making connections I had small meaningful conversations, I went into geek mode absorbing not the market impact but the actual things than made the lights flash and data whiz around the world.  I got a full blown geek boner at one point.

During lunch I would sit outside and within two minutes of sitting down and obsessively staring at my crack berry a stunning brunette in a pinkish orange bikini would sit down next to me and start a conversation.  The site of a man sitting in the sun by the pool in a blue suit and dark shoes must have been something.   In less than 18 hours I’ve had two women strike up a conversation with me out of the blue.  Both were stunning.  In this case she was single, a grade school teacher away on spring break with friends, all female and single.  She talked and talked, I mostly listened.  Later I bragged to the Chesty Blonde that the Florida sunshine was making me extra sexy and I was bringing home new play friends.  She wasn’t very worried.  Another female friend told me it was because I looked respectable and like a good meal ticket from a distance.  No wedding ring, expensive suits, expensive watch, high end shades.   It might be they were only interested in the quality of my wallet ( coach BTW) but I think she was wrong that these women were just looking for a conversation with a sexy man who was literate and that failing to find that I was a suitable altenative.

Later I would steal away from the meetings for 75 minutes and after slipping onto something more comfortable truly escape.  Not to meet any of the women I’d encounters, or to troll for others but on a date date with my running shoes and I Pod.   60 minutes later I was refreshed and my mind was as clear as it gets.    A few more meetings a two hour cocktail party later the rejuvenated me headed out with acquaintances to dinner at a celebrity chef’’s restaurant (over rated)  after which I would disappear into the night as they sang and danced.  I escaped through a series of hall ways and corridors.

Eventually The night wound down, there was no hell to be raised and a man who had been feeding his diet coke habit mercilessly made his way back to his room.  Do  you really want to know what I do at 3am.

Order room service and watch infomercials.  On this occasion I collecyed all the orchid from my room service tray arranged them on the hard wood dressed and sen the picture to the blonde.

The next morning I repeated the process except for the Brunette at lunch.  I killed 2 cell phone batteries, and did my best to wear the keys of my crack berry.  I counted the minutes until the arty was over.  I dreamed of a good tomato bisque and Key lime pie neither of which I would end up getting by my own choice.  The following day i snapped this picture as I walked across the Tiki themed bridge to meet my driver.

Like so many things it was still elegant but some how lost the mystery and sexiness and magic the same water garden had cast over me the  night I arrived.   Still I was finally headed home.  Any week when I sleep in the same bed for more than one night is a good week.  A week where I fly home on a Wednesday and have the Blonde meet me at the airport is a great week.

HNT Courtesy of Margaret at They Belong to Us

Welcome to e[lust] - your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #10? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Start Without Me – It’s for when one of us is too tired, or not in the mood, or out of town, or the other of us is too horny to wait. But now, here, right in front of me, you’re touching yourself, playing yourself, and it is the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

Wicked Tongues - There are so many different ways that a mouth can connect themselves with my cunt. And so many partners, each with their own way of connecting with me.

“Vanilla” Bigotry – I effectively retired my personal usage of the word “vanilla” when one of these sick fucks told me that he hated that term. He said it was condescending, and the implication that kinky people have any idea what goes on in other people’s bedrooms just because they aren’t fucking around in a dungeon was ridiculous.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Audible – More hushed giggles, more kissing sounds. A gasp followed immediately by a quiet, restrained moan. I had to make up the images in my head, try to picture what caused that gasp, who’s mouth was on what body part. Or was it even a mouth?

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Swing Shift Volume 33- We’re “Sexually Festive!” – What I do know is that I love Veronica now more than ever, that we choose our extra-marital partners with care and respect, and never fail to remember that our primary relationship is the most important one. If we’re considered sluts or promiscuous by others, so what?

See also: Pleasurists #66 and #67 for all your sex toy review needs.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Babeland Store Dream
Spend an Evening with Madison Young and Help Support the Arts
Partner rape, cryptids, and other crazy myths

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Anal Sex for Beginners
Choosing the right partner in poly relationships
Controlling or Petty?
Dating and Fucking
In response to: Gang Bang Curiosity
Intoxicative Healing
Reflection
Status Uterus Orgasmus
Therapy – Two Years
The Lost Art of the Hand Job
Time and Punishment: Some dynamics of male chastity in marriage
We Don’t Need No Education?
You Make My Tummy Funny

Kink & Fetish

Another Friday Story Time
BDSM — Abuse and Consent
Creating Space in Kink
Discovered
Ferocity
I am in trouble
Method: Episode Two
Nightly Spanking
Orgasm Control
Sex And Sadness
The Hands of a Goddess
The Day…
Wake-up call
What About the Children

Erotic Writing

Art Wednesday
Are You Watching Me? (3rd and Final Part)
An Afternoon Delight
Back To My Old Tricks
Climax At Midnight #6
controlling the beast
Group Post: “The Day….”
Harmony
Local
No Sex: Need Sleep
Pack It Up…Pack It In
Performance
Solo Session with B
Slam
The Good Kind of Wake-up Call
That Kind Of Girl…Who Gets Off In A Crowded Bar
The Hammer
The Threesome
The Golden Goddess
The Stranger
The realest thing
Wicked Wednesday: Date Night

” he’s after the babes and he calls them honey

he thinks they’re cute and he waves with his money”

—Dirty Willy by the Lords of Acid

So it’s a warmish late winter day, the sun is flirting with breaking through the clouds, the temperature is nearing 50 a proverbial heat wave in comparison to the long dark winter we’ve had.  For once I wasn’t on a flying penis terrorizing some other city or sliding through the shadows of the clubs and restaurants in the name of greed, power, and excess that so very much defines my life.

On this particular day I was home and the Chesty Blonde had asked me to pick up our youngest from school between meetings and calls. So there I am in the parking lot of where I send my money but so rarely visit surrounded by the other parents.  I hid in the Blonde’s black car with the dark windows waiting for 30 minutes to pass until school let out.

The first disruption was when my favorite Brooklyn transplant whipped open the passenger door and unceremoniously flung her sexy little ass and huge tits in front seat next to me.  Sadly she was disappointed I wasn’t the Blonde and they couldn’t chat.  During our last encounter at a Nilla party she tried to get me to flinch in a game oh so you think you can talk dirty.  I loved watching her face as I went line by line right there with her building up into a torrid fury of pure utter graphic verbal filth.  Her husband hugged me afterwards and offered to pay me for lessons since he claimed she had never encountered anyone with less boundaries or a dirtier mouth than hers.  Ahh if lucky boy only really knew where my boundaries were I laughed to myself.   Telling him the key to being good at it is the fact that I was in willing to act out every single suggestion I made to her right then and there.   Since then she has given me a wide berth and a few minutes later she left almost as unannounced as she arrived.   I was as the saying goes I sad to see her go but I do love to watch her leave as she strutted in those always present dangerously high heels and curve hugging jeans.  Simply put and reverting back to my shallow catch phrase of my youth “I’d really like to hurt that.”

About 5 minutes before the assault plaid clothed kids who have just been given back a few minutes of their youth back began I made my way to the flag pole where Lilly told me to meet her.  Like her father Lil is a creature of habit when it comes to some things. Where to meet after school is one of apparently one of those things.

As I dragged my a little too chicly dressed ass into the light of day and across the parking lot  there was an obvious demographic split.  Sure there were the Mommy vans, the sedans, and the SUV set but more than cars and money there was an obvious split in the women’s social patterns almost exclusively based on body type.  There was the grandparents set and most of the men there were tradesmen except for the few business geeks and Doctor’s who slip away to pick up the kids.  The men for the most part were loners keeping their distance and feeling no need for social interaction beyond a passing nod.  The women were huddled in small packs but what was most striking was there were those who were glaring harshly at the other set and there were the groups that if this was Greek mythology would have been classified as Nymphs.

Those who were glaring had shorter hair on average, not long flowing locks, no sporty pony tails and frankly they were less fit in a physical sense that when added to an unapproachable disposition.  They silently exhibited a demeanor that made my balls crawl 6 inches up my ass explained way to much in 30 seconds of observation for me to ignore.  I always find social interactions so interesting and I do know it’s the whole birds of a feather thing but in truth as I walked like a wounded zebra through a pack of cougars they eyed me with the same discerning predators eye that I had as I approach them picking my line to the aforementioned Flag Pole.   It became clear why the flag pole was the place to be.  It’s where I spotted the Blonde’s friends and was greeted with a series of casual hello’s, several hugs, and a few kisses.    Apparently after being greeted by a few I was deemed socially acceptable by the rest of the pack and not some meandering worthless gigolo since others then began to approach and introduce themselves.  Frankly the Blonde is very friendly and a genuinely nice person, she can talk to anyone anywhere.  I’m far more reserved with new people so I wasn’t surprised to meet additional acquaintances of hers.

I watched the other groups watching us what can I say I’m a bit of a voyeur myself and as they talked and glared in our general direction I could only imagine what they were saying to each other.  I did though imagine it to be very judgmental and not all that nice just based on my experience of human nature.  What I noticed about the group I was with is they were not at all concerned with the others sort of like animals in the zoo who are used to being leered and gawked at.   They were living their lives making plans to have lunch, go to the gym, for the fundraiser a few weekends off, and arranging play dates and sleepovers with merry abandon. Perhaps it is a by product of always being pretty, of always being noticed, and of being confident enough about who they were that there was more to life than that now. It was that confidence that made them all the more alluring.

One little number stood uncomfortably close and tried to pry the details of our last Vegas get away out of me.  “Oh that was months ago and besides what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas but if you come with us next time I can show you first hand”   Brooklyn was grinning wickedly just a few feet away at the fact that another fly had flown into my web.  The little blond was playing with fire and had no clue how hot things could really get.  These women were just being who they are, sure some were fake, a few were catty but most were just lucky enough to seem to have it all together even if it was just on the outside.  They were cursed with being pretty and having taken care of themselves.  Some were sinners, I’m sure a few were saints, and most were just regular people.

Ahh there are two things I hope I never forget First the joy I use to feel when the last bell of the school day rang and I got to be a free person no longer part of others silly rules and roles.  Secondly that some times it is just great to be the best looking member of the opposite sex in a group of beautiful people even if I was the only male on that given occasion.

Lilly sprinted out amazed her somewhat distracted father could actually find and remember to stand by the giant flag pole.  As I bid the beautiful Nymphs good day and made by way back past the gawkers, rocking my dark jeans, black shoes, my custom slim fit dress shirt and Marc Jacobs jacket I guess in my own way jumping in to the blacked out black sedan I waved with my money.  Then again after all every there writes the same checks I do. Most just don’t have enough balls to the wave to the cougars and call them Honey!   Then again the size of my balls have never been called into question, the size of my brain?  Well that’s another matter.

The Lost Art of the Hand Job

So if I had to document the many twists and turns of my own sexual evolution the 80’s was all about blow jobs for me with the SM type stuff toward the end of the decade.  I was young and while probably into the entire fetish thing a bit young for the period I assure you I wasn’t the only one playing with whips and chains in my age bracket.  Then again I had my first 3 way at barely 18 which was I’m told was far less common then than it is for all the crazy kids out there these days.  And having sex in the same room as other couples was almost a given on most Friday and Saturday nights.  Life was good.

The 90’s continued to evolve my love of a great B.J. and rough sex but add in a little more role play and more dynamic encounters, my first orgy, a basic understanding of swinging, a healthy doses of Sex Caffeine and Rock n Roll.  Early in the decade I considered Vibrators and Toys to be something you only needed if you couldn’t get laid or your dick didn’t work.   Now they are as much a part of most of our sexual routines as our traditional sexual organs.   God I love progress and can’t imagine life with a woman who wasn’t comfortable using toys.  Life was still good and getting better.

The 2000’s well for me it was nude beaches and resorts.  A very memorable week at Hedo, a few hot nights on St, Martin  some mind blowing parties in South Beach and despite it all I think I learned what I always really knew not only did I like sex but in fact I’m truly the happiest when surrounded by other adventurous people who feel the same way.  I would be completely remiss if I didn’t mention the internet and what it has done for sex, lifestyle and Porn (both good and bad).  This was my pants optional in public period.

Somewhere along the way and in between the parties and resorts and with the ability to create and share erotic stories, dirty pictures, and professional like home made porn complete with sound tracks and props something at least in my little corner of the world was lost.  Before during and along the way was the hand job.   I’m not talking about masturbation because despite all the advances in technology and sexuality the fact remains that all of us are pretty much self equipped to get off whenever we need with what we already have  add a little spit and a healthy imagination.

A lover once told me “no matter how good you are it will always feel better if someone else is doing it for you.”  She was a wise and wily little slut who by the way gave amazing hand jobs.   Which is really the point of today’s story.

I’m a lucky guy I get my dick rubbed, tugged, played with, sucked, and fucked on a pretty damn regular basis but somewhere along the way people stopped just jerking me off to make me cum?   Is it a sexual evolution or a lost art form?   Fine tickle my balls as I explode inside of you the more stimulation and the longer I hold on the better the orgasm I’m all for it.

You can stoke me until I could cut diamonds and I won’t complain.  Hold me firmly with your thumb rocking under my head in small pressure filled circles and I’d moan in delight.   A soft long touch with no lube to tease me or pull hard and fast before impaling yourself on me with a wet well rubbed pussy is a wonderful little interlude.  Once upon a time there was one person who world roll me between her hands and she was most masterful at varying the speed and pressure.  Despite all of this I can’t tell you the last time someone just took my dick out and gave me a good hand job with nothing more than a coy look maybe a little dirty talk.   It seems to me that the hand job has become an appetizer to the main course and dessert.  Again don’t get me wrong I’m all for drink followed by the 5 course meal but some nights I just want an appetizer.  I don’t really need the soup, salad, main course, pasta and dessert.   Similarly on occasion in its most basic form I just want to cum,  I don’t want to perform, reciprocate, and selfishly I don’t want to worry about anyone else getting off on anything other than getting me off.

And that is the very reason why I believe that the hand job is very much a lost art that hearkens back to the heady and lust filled days of my youth.  Rather than always breaking new ground and because the choice of options has gotten so wide, the acts so lurid, dirty and deviant that the joy of the little things is lost.  Even if the little things is the very place where innocence once began to shatter.  After all who really needs 3 types of batteries, 5 kinds of specialty lube in 4 different flavors, and a porn collection to rival a university library when a little spit, an eager hand, a dirty mouth and a tissue at just the right time will do just fine.

Just a reminder that my friend Mistress Victoria Sends me quotes everyday and our twisted little circle of friends bat around the responses.  While most of the other folks are intellectual types and counter with other people’s quotes that are point and counter point I’ve decided to make my own up.  here’s the latest week’s batch.

“A kind and compassionate act is often its own reward.”

–William Bennett, American pundit and politician

“Oh Sure it looks like it hurts and well it actually does but you’d be amazed how many people are really into this stuff,  Pain is its own release.”

– Malflic the Sadist explaining his well marked lover and collection of impact toys to a nilla who took a wrong turn at a “party”.

_____________________________________________________________________

“Oh I have secrets, now stop for a second and think about what you know about me and then consider the point that there is way worse shit I’m not telling you”

-Malflic publicly accessible recluse

_____________________________________________________________________

“Yeah I figured I’d end up Divorced every five years.  Relationships are like cars no matter how great they are eventually you want a different one.”

–Malflic  author of “The art of Monogamy in a Polyamorous world”

_____________________________________________________________________

“Be sure you put your feet in the right place, then stand firm.”

–Abraham Lincoln, 16th U.S. president

“While moaning seemingly in delight she kept reassuring me my fist really would fit in there. Sadly now I think she’s done with me and off to find someone with an even bigger hand to shove in her ass.

-       Malflic – first short fat man to have a pornographic rubber glove endorsement contract.

_____________________________________________________________________

“Love is like a rose, the joy of all the earth.”

–Christina Georgina Rossetti, British poet

“So are you going to fuck me or what?”

–Malfic  world renowned inquisitor of women’s sexual intentions…and yes she did fuck him.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

HNT Courtesy of Blue-Eyed Vixen

Welcome to e[lust] - your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #9? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

This Isn’t Play. . . BDSM and Rape – The very basic principle that we hold so dear in BDSM play, “Nothing without consent” seems to stand in stark contrast to a very common form of play, “Rape Play”.

Half-Full – When I get my ass beaten, is it as much for the sensation as it is for the “Good girl…I knew you could take that for me.” that I want so badly at the close of the scene?

House Party Part 2 -His wife walked by at one point and he cryptically asked her to “do what she did to so-and-so earlier”. His wife disappeared behind me, but I felt her hands touching me and his cock as it entered me.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Backseat Orgasms - We kissed lightly and without focus, both a sensual act and maddening at the same time. More, I needed more. In a blur I was on my knees on the seat, straddling his leg, his mouth latched onto one nipple and his fingers hunting for the key to undoing my dress pants.

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Are You Watching Me? – A plan of devious proportions begins to form. Before this is over with, I will have forced you into a corner…forced you to act…forced you to give ME what I want.

See also: Pleasurists #64 and 65 for all your sex toy review needs.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Writing

A story of FL

Contemplation

Cuddling

Floor Exercises

Good day for a milking

Goodbye

G-Spot Orgasms Galore – Part 2

Initiation

Logan

Mark. Confession #423

Mouth

Nothing says I love you quite like…

Playful and Dangerous

Play your part

Plotter

Splish Splash

The Library Hotel

The Secret I Couldn’t Keep

Triple X

Three A.M. Surprise

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Anatomy of Desire (PT. Two)

Better Cautious Than Raped

Lingerie Tales Vol 1 An Obsession Begins

My life as a gamer’s slave

Perplexed

Saturday Texting

So Simple

The Elusive Female Orgasm

The G Spot Mouse or How To Make A Woman Squirt

Transtastic: On Language

Kink & Fetish

A No Limits Slave?

Are Discipline and Punishment The Same?

BDSM Advice Series: Pet Play

Bondage 101—Part 1: Bondage Basics

Breaking the Demons

Dark/DirtyBlog Crush

Factory Doll

Hand vs. toys

I’m on a book cover: ‘The Punishment List’ by Abel

Kink

Men as sex objects

Rough Porn

Raleigh and La Fortress

Savouring the texture of my skin with his teeth

The Way They Look At Me

The Slut Chronicles #13 ~ The Auction

Whither the spankosphere?

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Happy Valentines Day!

Hookers, Catholic School Students and Facebook

Lane Bryant Makes Puppies and Kittens Cry

Pussy Cosmetics and Vagina Myths

Stares Glances and absurdity

I have decided that a series of recent events are too funny to not share.  Sadly I will inform you that many of these pieces seems jaded towards the fairer sex which is rather uncharacteristic of me.  Still I’ve decided to share because well frankly some of it is funny, some of it appalling and all of it true.

Often I rant about things that tend to be on the edge of the mainstream and drifting toward the fringe if not well off into the weeds.  Not today though today I’m ranting about something rather demure but it seems to be a growing issue in my world.

Simply put I am a man with a wife and two daughters.  The oldest of which is 16 and when dressed up god help us all looks and carriers herself like someone 5-6 years older.  Sure there have been the few occasion when my itinerate and vile being has explained to some walking hard on she’s a kid so keep moving or risk drawing their last breath.  No she’s not half dressed, flamboyant, or anything even bordering age inappropriate.  In fact in most cases she’s better dressed than people I see on their way to church…which might be part of the problem.   Other than sporting the occasional university sweat shirt there is nothing misleading and since most of this state lives in Mizzou shirts even that’s not odd.

What I’d like to talk about is the women who glare at us as we walk through restaurants and malls together.  Their disapproving glances as we pass of the dirty old man with the pretty young girl as the withered old hags who can’t seem to keep their noses or opinions to themselves cast dispersions in my general direction.  Now I like to think it’s because they’re jealous that I’m “spoken for” but I’m not sure that’s it.

One old bag a little while back with her size 24ish ass came up to me and said “Don’t you think she’s a little young for you.” All but wagging her finger at me when the young lady was out of ear shot.  To which I replied “yeah probably so but considering she’s only here because I fucked her mother I suggest you mind your own business.”   Apparently Mrs Nebshit was offended buy my answer.  Look I get it most dad’s probably don’t go clothes shopping with their 16 year olds but welcome to the new millennium and shit happens.

Yesterday a gaggle of Flat Landers glared in my general direction as we came out of an afternoon movie.  Perhaps I was being paranoid and the snarl at everyone but was it the fact that Diva is young and pretty that garnered their glances.  If so here’s my advice, time is a bitch, smoking makes you age, now everybody say it with me “Sunscreen and exercise”.    Perhaps that was their assessment but they also glared directly at me in an unwavering fashion so I think once again they misinterpreted the situation.  My assessment they all need to go buy a good vibrator and learn to use it.  These were not unattractive women but they were also not on the prowl well cared for cougars either.

Not long after we found ourselves in a cantina having a little dinner.  A Charter Member of the Butt and Gut Club comes in and this time Diva notices the disapproving look.  So I tweet something cavalierly about the situation but it’s still eating at me a little today. Hence my rant.

Look I’m not a dumb ass and know there are 20 year olds banging 40 year olds probably all over the place hence the term trophy wife.  Odds are this has been happening since there have been 20 year olds and 40 year olds.  I get it but it’s probably obvious by basic body language the nature of the relationship.

Odds are though that there are a lot more men in their 40’s running around with girls in their late teens and early 20’s who are simply father and daughter.  So stop assuming some young harlot has stolen another man who might not be frightened off by your age.   After all it’s the nasty looks that keep me from flirting with you in the first place…well that and umm that brown velour sweat suit you’re wearing around.  Once again say it with me…”there is no such thing as your good sweat suit”

Typically I really try to stay away from pop culture commentary sports pontification and current events excluding the occasional gratuitous political satire.  This time however I can’t help myself.  Maybe it’s because I could give a shit what tiger woods does with his penis and for that matter I don’t care what he does with his others wood either seeing as I’m not much of a golf fan.  Perhaps it’s a character flaw of mine that I’m not overly obsessed with who’s doing what with their genitals and I care even less that a person I don’t know is acting in a way that many others might  consider in proper.  Here’s some points I’d like you to consider

1)      I would be more upset if Hugh Heffner became monogamous than if some American Icon of sports made it his lifelong goal to bang every cocktail waitress in the world with a cute ass.  BTW I think there are a lot of people who might have that as a goal present company included.  Hugh being monogamous would be crushing to my viewpoint of life an athlete fucking someone who is not their spouse.  Odds are most of the people reading this fuck people who are not their spouse…yes that includes sex toys, vegetables, self love, and other humans.  Now how god damn righteous do you feel.  Yeah though so.

2)      If the president of the United States can turn a cigar in to a sex toy and have the UN and the world still love him why should Nike care?  It’s not like he was cross-dressing and prancing around in a wedding gown after keeping the company of a woman named after the holy mother and Carmen Electra.  Its not like they were paying him to not screw around with other people they were paying him to be the best in the world at playing with little white balls.  No I do know one nice jewish girl who claims to be the best in the world at playing with little white balls but I think its slightly different that what e does…well based on the news reports anyhow who know what hasn’t come out yet.

3)      I would be moderately more interested if it came out that the pope was wearing leather pants on Mondays and cruising at a dangerous rate of speed through the Italian country side on a Ducati while for a good rabbi to confide in.

4)      It might be news worthy if the Dali Lama teamed up with the WWE to kick The  People’s Republic of China’s ass in a pay per view version of political empire smack down steel cage death match and then he became infatuated with the rush or power and violence ultimately becoming fascist dictator.

5)      I would be upset if my friend AB stopped losing her shirt, flaunting her amazing tits, and showing off her piecings at every party before going into to full blown girl on girl nipple licking mode while rolling around in the back yard with the killer hot and truly Crazy E.   Speaking of pay per view it is better than most of the high end porn on the web.

Look I admit it the only thing I know about golf is  I own clubs and three sets of shoes, I own lay when I half to and prefer to cavort with the college girls working the drink carts during university fund raisers and that I like to drink both Arnold Palmer’s and John Daly’s. and there you have it folks a few not so nice thoughts for a Saturday morning.

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