Spiderman in Bondage

This is just wrong on so many levels:

But the man in the Spiderman suit seems to be, er, happy enough.

Behold The Power Of Panties

Functional Ambivalent writes humorously and at length about panties. This is only a tiny fraction of his panty wisdom:

I’m going to admit something here that I’ve never admitted before: There are certain underpants that my wife wears that render me powerless. They are kryptonite to me. When we’re getting dressed to go out and she puts on a pair of those certain panties underneath a dress, I know that I will do whatever she asks me to do that night.

Her: “Let’s go see modern dance.”
Me: “I’d love to. Can I sit next to you and maybe touch your leg in the dark?”
Her: “Tickets are $10,000.”
Me: “No problem. Can I sit next to you and maybe touch your leg in the dark?”

My wife doesn’t really know how much power these certain underpants have over me. (Note to self: Don’t blog secrets, moron.)

You Are Bound To Land In Something Good

Bell De Jour has written some entertaining Dating Tips From The Animal Kingdom:

1. Our good friends and co-evolutionaries Canis familiaris(the domestic dog) show that when in doubt which hole to aim for, thrust wildly. You are bound to land in something good.
…
5. The females of the bonobo species (Pan paniscus), closely related to humans, are known to use sexual favours to gain status and food. A point to remember next time you’re short of change at the corner shop.
…
12. Time is limited and some opportunities may never repeat themselves. Take a tip from swallows of the genus Hirundo, who mate in midair, regardless of the number of people on the flight.

Six Dirty Girls

I’m not sure what’s going on here, but it sure is cute:

We’ve got some sort of outdoor shower situation going on. One woman is getting clean while six wait in line. They are clearly aware of the photographer (since they are doing their best to protect the remnants of their modesty) but their smiles and laughter suggest they don’t care all that much.

Cartoon Porn

Here’s a huge open directory of porn featuring all your favorite cartoon characters. I’m not going to name any names because (1) I don’t want searching kids to come to this page by mistake and (2) I don’t want aggrieved owners of the characters in question to send feral lawyers to hound me into an early grave. But imagine everyone’s favorite friendly ghost teaching a little witch in a red cape what his trailing tendril of protoplasm is good for. Or, say, that notorious spinach-eating sailor taking advantage of a certain young mermaid when she appears on his hook.

Sick, evil, mostly harmless fun. Check it out fast before it goes the way of all open directories.

The Art Of Compromise

A quote:

“Errol Flynn died on a 70-foot yacht with a 17-year-old girl. Walter’s always wanted to go that way, but he’s going to settle for a 17-footer and a 70-year-old.”

— Mrs. Walter Cronkite

What Does No Mean?

This will doubtless offend the “no-means-no” purists, but I think it’s funny:

How Dirty?

Running errands this morning, The Nymph and I were walking though the parking lot of the local department store. There was a pickup truck with camper shell there with a rather dirty back window. Over on the right somebody had used his finger to scribble the boring classic: “Wash me.”

But I liked rather better what was inscribed on the left:

“I wish my wife was this dirty.”

The Perquisites of a Pretty Girl

Everybody knows this, of course, but it’s rare to see a person of the pretty girl persuasion admitting it:

The majority opinion seems to be that through both a lucky spin on the genetic roulette wheel, and a lot of diligent care and maintenance, I am a Pretty Girl. And as I move through the everyday world, that’s made my life easier on thousands of different occasions. University administrators, traffic cops, doormen, job interviewers and employers, apartment managers, auto mechanics, waiters, taxi drivers, hotel clerks these are just a few of the types of men who’ve overlooked small transgressions, given me extra perks, or somehow gone out of their way for me because I’m a Pretty Girl.

But here’s the really fascinating part — this particular Pretty Girl understands why it works. No, Officer Doughnut-Gut doesn’t really think she’ll sleep with him if he lets her off with a warning. But what he does get is worthy:

I gave those men nothing except my smile and wow-you-are-such-a-great-guy gratitude. And most of the time I was perfectly sincere if someone gives me a break, especially when I know I don’t necessarily deserve it, I am grateful to them. So I show them a picture of themselves in my eyes, surrounded by a rosy glow of Great-Guyness.

And that, Pretty Girl, is not “nothing.”

They Like Bukkake

The market for blog entries about bukkake has been sorely underserved ever since The Reverse Cowgirl folded her blog. (We are still miffed that she vanished without so much as a farewell entry, but there it is.) Still, this humble sex blog fills her footsteps when it can. Herewith: a bukkake song.

Love On A Rainy Night

Katy would make Eddie Rabbitt proud. She writes:

We sat under a blanket to keep the rain off, and it wasn’t long before I shed my t-shirt, which was my only piece of clothing. There’s something about feeling the spray of rain on skin, about being exposed to the elements.

The thunder gods smile, it is said, upon those who show a proper sensual appreciation of their storms.

Creepy Idiot Sex Criminal: Pussy Inspector

The Smoking Gun reports that one John Lookebill was arrested a few days ago for impersonating a police officer after conducting a bogus traffic stop of a female motorist. This was the badge he used:

Bad luck for John that the woman he stopped and flashed his “Pussy Inspector” badge at was a Palm Beach County Sheriff’s deputy….

Git Yer Politics Right Here

The never-ending drumbeat of demand for this simple sex blog to go political cannot be ignored. You want politics? I’ll give you politics:

No, wait. The drumbeat can be ignored. On second thought, just enjoy the pic. Go bother Daze if you want the political context.

More Gingerotica

This item follows up the post from last December on the supposed aphrodisiac powers of ginger root (freshly peeled, and not eaten, but applied internally, if you know what I mean and I think you do). Now there’s a web page devoted to links and resources for the ancient art of figging.

If nothing else, a nice fresh ginger root ought to liven up the mannequin-impersonators the ladies were complaining about in the comments to this post.

Doggy Girl In Trouble

And here is your pure-fun Sunday image:

Note the whip — I think doggy girl is in for it!

Toward A New Literature

Remittance Girl, a frequent and friendly commenter on these pages, is conducting a literary experiment of sorts at Divestiture: she’s writing an erotic novel in blog form. Although my friendly relationships with literature tend toward the less experimental forms, this does look interesting.

Powerful Mojo Needed

From the entertaining “My Secret Fantasies“, this old joke dressed up as an anecdote:

Another friend of ours, K.C., went out with us, and we met a woman that calls herself a white witch. He may not understand, but he asked her if she can remove a curse that has been with him for 8 years now. The witch said to him, “Maybe, but you will have to tell me the exact words that were used to put the curse on you.” K.C. said, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Sorry, my friend, but a white witch isn’t gonna do the trick. K.C., you need lawyer rituals and there will be sacrifices involved.

Government Porn

I’ve been tempted. Yes I have. I can’t deny it. When the government gets into the porn business, and makes a product that looks like surprisingly high-quality femdom and/or gay porn, it’s tough for a sex blogger to avoid comment. But I’ve been holding back.

I’ve written before about the reasons why “sexual atrocities are featured much less often on this blog than they might be.” Matisse makes the point much more succinctly. She has a wise policy: “I don’t eroticise non-consensual violence.” And this blog is, for the most part, supposed to be erotic.

Troll my archives, you might find a few places where I arguably have eroticised sexual atrocities. What can I say? Mistakes were made. I take full responsibility.

Whuh? No, I don’t think so. Of course nobody is going to lose their job over this. Are you nuts? Resign? Why bother, I already took responsibility, didn’t you hear me?

Cute Sexy Greeting Card

This card looks pretty innocuous on the outside, but it gets better as you read inside:

How To Pick Up A Couple

Over at The Orgy I found this tale of a threesome, no more remarkable than such tales always are, but entertaining nonetheless. It’s quoted here, however, for its illustration of the dynamics of a successful couple pickup. I especially like the two-handed handshake proffer:

Lauren and I sat at the table and talked, sobering up a little before we chanced the roads home.

From the crowd came a girl in a “demented schoolgirl” outfit. Short, with jet black hair that rested on her shoulders, this girl was wearing a black blouse, one button fastened around the mid-point of the shirt, a white bra, and a plaid schoolgirl skirt. White knee socks and Mary Janes rounded off the look. The girl was smoking hot, pale white skin with big, bright blue eyes. Her ears were pierced in a dozen places each, her eyebrow was pierced, her labret was pierced, and her belly button was pierced. She had a smile on her face as she walked over to our table and took a seat.

Lauren and I looked at each other, wondering who she was going to flirt with- she was eyeing Lauren pretty hard, and my bet was on her. Instead, she stuck her hands out, one to each of us, and said “I’m Anna. You two are a beautiful couple.”

We introduced ourselves, and there was some highly-charged conversation. After a few minutes, Anna slid under the table and came up on our side, pushing between the two of us. She rested her head on my shoulder and put her hand on Lauren’s bare knee, rubbing up towards her thigh. Anna whispered into my ear “Would you two like to take me home?”

Stylish.

Greek Pagans Getting No Respect

Bacchus may just be a nom-de-keyboarde for me, but to these people he’s real:

Greek pagans battle government in fight for rites

In the distance, the Acropolis is bathed in the white light of the full moon as the chorus, with arms aloft, chants the name of Zeus into the night. Not an unusual sight in Athens, you might think, only they are not actors, this is not a theatre and there is no tragedy.

These are worshippers of the 12 Olympian gods, a hardy band of Hellenic pagans who have seen their main religious festival – the Olympics – become a bloated commercial extravaganza, their sacred flame sponsored by Coke.

Now they face an uphill battle for religious recognition from the Greek state. But they are having trouble getting anyone to take them seriously.

It is not hard to see why. As the moon reaches its eclipse, fully grown adults with coloured ribbons in their hair, screw their eyes shut to commemorate gods, men and monsters. A mainly middle-aged crowd mill about and incense floats around a plastic Apollo looking down from a blackened teak altar. On his right sits Athena, sporting a fetching, warlike helmet, and underneath, a bare-breasted Aphrodite plays up to her role as the goddess of love.

Thanks to Freedom News for the link.

That Nasty Old Devil

I suppose it comes as no surprise to anyone that Old Nick is sexually depraved, although I doubt the young upstart could hold a candle to good old Zeus back when He (Zeus) was in one of his heifer-raping moods. And I’m aware that artistic depictions of devils and demons cavorting in obscene fashion became something of a pornographic tradition way back in the day when anything else so graphic could get an artist in a lot of trouble. But it was still something a shock to come across this detail from a scene by Fredillo, circa 1880:

Via Demon Bondage.

Me Tarzan, Jane Not Happy

You think Tarzan sat around serving Jane tea in his treehouse, all prim and proper and polite? Heck no, I’m betting it went more like this:

Thanks to Bondage Blog for the link to Water Bondage where this photo comes from.

Similar Sex Blogging:

• A Delicious Amazon-Tarzan Sammich
• Maria Tied And Showered
• Water Bondage: "Splish, Splash I Was Taking a Bath...."

An Exchange Of Pleasantries

Mistress Matisse had a party at her house the other day. Sounds like a fun one, too:

After a certain amount of negotiation, I convinced a man crouched on the floor next to my chair to bark like a dog for me. And not just any dog, either a collie, specifically. In return, I kissed him on the cheek. A satisfying exchange of pleasantries.

Kid Views Oprah, Head Explodes

This is an actual email sent to the FCC and procured by The Smoking Gun via a Freedom of Information Act Request:

The Oprah Show described with graphic detail a sexual term known as “tossing salad.” It was so offensive that my child’s head literally exploded. Please ban free speech so this never happens again.

Ouch. “Literally”? “You keep using that word….“

Anal Banana Snacks

Or something. I’m not sure I follow the lingo, but at least I’m not the only one:

Lifted without shame from Across the Atlantic.

P.S. Speaking of which, have you noticed that Shell and The Group Captain are now on the same side of the Atlantic and happily eating burgers with vegemite and A1 sauce together? They’ve spared us their transports of delight, but it sounds like they are having fun. Like the man from the A-Team said, I love it when a plan comes together.

P.P.S. I am reliably informed that vegemite is actually concentrated smegma.

Fake Celebrity Nude Photos

Here’s a link and photo for you. Allegedly, Chelsea Clinton Topless:

Although I must say, it doesn’t look too much like Chelsea to me.

Update: Because, of course, it isn’t. Instead, courtesy Jonno at Fleshbot, we know it’s Abby Winters.

Update To the Update: Courtesy of Abby Winters’s comment, we now know it’s a model of Abby’s named Samantha.

2013 Update to the Update to the Update: It turns out that comment was not actually made by Abby Winters, a person who may or may not even exist.

The Economics of Prostitution

Ever wondered why there are so many cute Russian hookers in your fair (non-Russian) city? The answer lies in economics.

Thanks to Daze for the link to this summary of the economics of hooking.

Abuse of Bathtub Privileges

Naked Loft Party has a whole new look, and it’s spiffy.

Fair warning, top entry at the moment is an item entitled “Kink” that starts:

I pace around the living room, my face twisted into a grimace. No more 256 ounce SuperValu fountain drinks for me.

I hear the bath running.

“What the fuck is she doing in there? I told her I have to go.”

“Go in then,” Leslie tells me.

May as well the girls never lock the door anyway. I find Nova in the tub, splashing about in three inches of bathwater and playing with herself. She’s grinning at me.

The rest of that story goes exactly where you think it does.

Cheaper Than A RealDoll

From Savage Love, a letter in praise of stiff plastic lovers:

“Being with a mannequin is better than being with another person. (I like to think of myself as half of a mannequpple.) They put out and they do whatever you want.”

Whatever you want? I guess that’s true, if “whatever you want” is limited to having a lover who is lifeless and cold and just lays there doing nothing at all. [Unhappily married men may wish to substitute a crass joke about their wives for the text currently within these brackets.]

There’s also detailed advice on how to steal (yes, steal) the other half of your mannequpple.

Rasputin’s Penis

Since this appears to be ugly dick week here at ErosBlog, herewith a picture (courtesy of that paragon of journalism, the Moscow News) of what is alleged to be Rasputin’s penis, on display in a museum in St. Petersburg:

Time For Some Beauty

Ok, enough grotesqueries for one weekend. Time for some beauty:

Oh, yeah, and don’t forget: SLUG-BUG!