|
|
The Sex Blog Of Record
March 10th, 2025 -- by Bacchus
I suppose it’s a little bit rude and speciesist to refer to a giant orc who appears basically humanoid as a monster, but if his massive schlong was presently rearranging your innards all the way up to your belly button, I think you might call him monstrous too:
The art credit on this is complex and I don’t understand it well enough to simplify it: “[Dekai Buki wa Roman (Tekkai Blade)] Elf Netorare ~Kono Uzuki o Shizumete~“.
Similar Sex Blogging:
March 8th, 2025 -- by Bacchus
All men, in my considered opinion, may be fairly divided into just two parts: the ones who celebrate the taste and smell of “that portion of a woman that appeals to man’s depravity” and the ones who make demeaning remarks or derogatory jokes about those tastes and smells, thus revealing that they don’t actually have much use for pussy, or for women, either one. American sexual culture is rife with such “jokes”, but I consider them the antithesis of the sex-positivity that’s at the heart of ErosBlog’s editorial standard, and I’ve done my best to keep them off the site. This video violates that standard, if it does, only because the punchline of the very short joke turns the tables on a light-hearted attempt to shame men for our sexuality:
I do apologize for spending 125 words introducing an eleven-word joke. But I am as I shall always be.
Similar Sex Blogging:
March 6th, 2025 -- by Bacchus
I don’t know enough about the fashions and countercultures of Scandinavia in the 1970s to know what steel beads and a big nose ring signifies, but this lass’s appreciation for a long black cock and a mouthful of cum is international and timeless:
Photo is from the March 1974 issue of the Swedish porn magazine “Q“.
Similar Sex Blogging:
March 4th, 2025 -- by Bacchus
Apparently it had never occurred to this man’s wife to wonder where his eyes were when he was fucking her from behind. Of course he’s looking at your butthole, honey:
In detail:
Her: Babe, babe, I just saw a video that literally says that guys stares at our B-hole during doggy.
Him: What did you think I stared at, the wall?
Her: Yeah!
Him: What am I, just admiring your…? Well, you do have a nice back. But that thing, it… That thing speaks to us in Morse code. Cause when you get to put it… Why are you covering your face?
Her: You should have your eyes closed!
Him: Like, that thing starts going [he makes lip puckers] it’s like… It’s like when we’re putting in work, it’s putting in work. It’s letting us know the right motion that we’re going in. And what’s even better is like, sometimes, like, when y’all forget to shave or y’all miss a few little hairs, it’s kind of like a… it’s kind of like an eye, just winking, lets us know that we’re doing it right. But how do you… it gives us something to concentrate on, so we last just a little bit longer, you know what I’m saying? When that little stink-wrinkle starts going back and forth, you know, that’s why y’all get the [sucks his thumb, gestures lewdly and low with it] “you’re next, big boy!” Oh, my god, girl, did you seriously, did you really think I was staring at a wall, or like…? Come on, now. Come on now!
Similar Sex Blogging:
March 2nd, 2025 -- by Bacchus
The February 1965 issue of Adam magazine printed this fanciful illustration of sex work in the Klondike, illustrating a story called The Portable Brothel Of Yukon Kitty:
As the story begins:
In a snug, snowed-in cabin on frozen Eldorado creek in the Canadian Northwest, a naked woman relaxed on a bearskin in front of a crackling fire and beckoned seductively to the miner feasting hungry eyes on her inviting body. In his hands he held her fee for a week’s uninterrupted love-making. It was a moose-hide poke of gold dust worth $5,000.
The things that went on in that cabin that week in the winter of ’98, made the sourdough swear that every ounce of dust in the sack was well spent.
One week later, the woman packed up her sled, mushed exactly five hundred feet up the Eldorado and established herself for another week of fun and games with a different miner to the tune of another $5,000.
This Klondike hooker who charged such fantastic admissions to her playhouse of pleasure was none other than Yukon Kitty, the Belle of the Klondike Whores.
Born in St. Louis, Missouri, in 1879, as Myrtle Anne Roy, to an impoverished family who made a living catching and selling catfish on the riverfront, Yukon Kitty parlayed her body and bedroom talents into two millions in gold dust and nuggets.
From Skagway to Wind City, Circle City to Ft. Pelly Banks, she got anywhere from $200 to $10,000 from thousands of crusty miners who wanted to sample her wares. Once she got her weight in gold dust from a man to winter with him on Dominion creek. At that time, she scaled in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds and an ounce of gold was worth sixteen dollars. When spring broke, the Belle of the Klondike Whores added $32,000 to her ballooning bank account. In addition to her fee, she was allowed to “pick around the winter dump,” and keep whatever nuggets she happened to unearth. The miner didn’t know that Myrtle was as skilled as he when it came to sorting gold from hardpan.
There’s no accurate account of how much she picked out of the dump that winter, but it was rumored around Dawson that she was seen lugging a two-gallon coal-oil can into the Bank of British North America.
By now you’re probably wondering why the price of a woman’s caresses and companionship were so costly. When something is scarce it is costly. In the winter of ’97, in Dawson, men outnumbered women at the disheartening odds of five hundred to one.
Artwork is by pulp artist Hubert Rogers.
Similar Sex Blogging:
February 28th, 2025 -- by Bacchus
Wise men have known this for a long time, but Daniel the Scotsman lays it out succinctly: the sexually-adventurous women you are looking for aren’t out clubbing, they’re the quiet ones with fairy smut on their Kindles.
A transcript for the impatient:
Don’t know who needs to hear this, but the freaks are not in the club. They’re in the library. They look innocent, sometimes intimidating. Sometimes you might think that you don’t wanna approach them because you might be too filthy for them.
Let me tell you this, you’re not. They’re way filthier than you. They read things that you just couldn’t even imagine yourself. And they’re written by women for women. And it’s what women want.
So if you want real tips, guys, start reading fairy smut, because you might learn a thing or two.
Ladies, tell me I’m lying.
Similar Sex Blogging:
February 26th, 2025 -- by Bacchus
Every salesman is also a showman, right? Otherwise, I’d believe this man was about to have an orgasm by proxy, handling those juicy melons of his:
Photo is from a 1973 issue of the British porn magazine Late Night Extra.
Similar Sex Blogging:
|
|
