- No matter how disgustingly blank a person is, there is someone out there who will fuck him/her.
- There are women out there wearing butt plugs right now.
- 99% of all women are shaved.
- Surprisingly, so are 50% of the men.
- Nuns and priests have a better sex life than I do.
- There are secret rooms in your neighbors' houses that you don't want to know about.
- All your relatives, in-laws, and neighbors are screwing each other.
- There are sexual fringe benefits to the following professions: babysitter, delivery service, teacher, law enforcement, gardener, pool boy, handyman, waitstaff, cook, servants, postal carriers.
- Be sure to keep your house clean because sooner or later someone will be having sex somewhere in it.
- Have all your furniture scotch-guarded and constantly wipe down every table, counter, and flat surface.
- There are 20-30 year old people still attending high school.
- Be very suspicious if your teen-age children suddenly become straight-A students.
- Be good to your spouse, or he/she will have sex with any number of random people simultaneously.
- Invest in the following growth industries: thong underwear, sex toys, body jewelry, whipped cream, tattoo parlors, leather, and latex.
- If you want a good night's sleep, put a lock on your bedroom door.
- If you see ping pong paddles but no table in your neighbor's house, don't turn your back on them.
- Be sure to wash all fruits and vegetables before consumption.
- Always wear clean underwear, as you never know who will be removing them;
- There's a hidden camera somewhere near you.
- It's very hard to get a woman to remove their stilettos.
- The following statements/questions are sexual come-ons:
Have you seen my dog?
Can I clean the room now?
My blank isn't home right now.
I can't afford that.
Happy Birthday. - There's more hardware in a bedside table than a Home Depot.
- The reaction from someone walking in while you are having sex will not be what you expect.
- Situations that you would expect to hinder your sex life, such as imprisonment or hospitalization, can actually improve it.
- Every man in the world has a larger dick than I do.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
25 Things I Have Learned from Watching Porn
Friday, November 13, 2009
For a Dirty Old Man I'm Such an Old Lady (and I don't mean tranny)
I worry about the ladies in the sex industry.
In a previous post, I mentioned that I follow and exchange tweets with a number of women who are involved in the sex/porn industry. While I cannot make generalities about the entire industry, my interactions have shown them to be intelligent, personable, hard working people trying to live life as best they can. (What profession can claim that every member is an "upstanding individual"?). As someone who has looked at a lot of porn, I can't help but hear about the problems that some of the stars have gone through. I worry that those I follow and whose work I have enjoyed could be affected by these influences.
And yes, I am being sexist. I do not include men in my concern because I would expect them to be less endangered. It's the way I am - sue me.
The sex industry in general is looked down upon by large segments of this society. There is a stigma of sleaziness and (for some) criminality applied to the women who work in it. Once identified as an "escort", "porn star" etc., the label stays forever. You don't always see entertainers, sports figures, and other walks of life always identified by what they do (i.e. Madonna, George Clooney, Angelina Jolie, etc.) but it will always be "Porn Star Jenna Jameson". It is hard for anyone to cope with the world when that world is predisposed to judge him or her as inherently bad.
[BTW - I can't stand how sexual content is ostracized but extreme forms of violence are accepted. In film if you show a penis getting mangled it has an "R" rating, but if you show an erect penis: automatic "NC-17"! (Or "XXX" depending on what one does with it) Why is society so paranoid about a natural biological function that is necessary for the continuation of the human race? I think the world would be better if we taught kids how to fuck instead of how to kill.]
I don't need to go into the dangers of AIDS and STD's in an industry based in sex. While there are a lot more safeguards in place today than there were before, no prevention ever 100% effective. There are even reasons for not using condoms in productions (I have read that they cause irritation during long sex scenes shoots and that the buying public prefers to not see them). Most performers get tested monthly and I am sure that each testing period is stressful .
[Another BTW - If you care about what happens to the people in this industry you might consider donating to the Adult Industry Medical Healthcare Foundation (AIM) , a non-profit corporation dedicated to the well-being of sex and adult industry workers. The Bill Gates Foundation and the Pugh Charitable Trust probably aren't donating - maybe you should.]
Some of the people I follow also act as escorts - these are the people I worry about most. Aside from it being illegal, escorts have the potential of putting themselves into harm's way. When you are a performer, you are usually dealing with someone you have worked with before or you know someone who has worked with him/her. Escorting puts you in contact with strangers - any one of which could be dangerous. While the women I follow say they screen their clients, as I've said before nothing is perfect. I live in Boston, so I am quite familiar with the Craigslist Killer - a man who robbed and eventually killed escorts he found on Craigslist. I can't help but think of him whenever I see a tweet about escorting.
If you think I'm exaggerating all this in order to make this entry more dramatic, go to this web site and count the number of deaths due to AIDS, drug use, suicide. and violence. I don't know if these problems occur at a higher rate for sex performers, but it sure seems like it.
It takes an emotionally strong person to be part of the sex industry. They have to handle all the issues I've mentioned and be able to live their lives. All of the women I follow seem to have strong emotional support - husbands, boyfriends, families, and friends (including each other). They seem to be coping with and even thriving in the sex industry.
But it doesn't stop me from worrying about them.
In a previous post, I mentioned that I follow and exchange tweets with a number of women who are involved in the sex/porn industry. While I cannot make generalities about the entire industry, my interactions have shown them to be intelligent, personable, hard working people trying to live life as best they can. (What profession can claim that every member is an "upstanding individual"?). As someone who has looked at a lot of porn, I can't help but hear about the problems that some of the stars have gone through. I worry that those I follow and whose work I have enjoyed could be affected by these influences.
And yes, I am being sexist. I do not include men in my concern because I would expect them to be less endangered. It's the way I am - sue me.
The sex industry in general is looked down upon by large segments of this society. There is a stigma of sleaziness and (for some) criminality applied to the women who work in it. Once identified as an "escort", "porn star" etc., the label stays forever. You don't always see entertainers, sports figures, and other walks of life always identified by what they do (i.e. Madonna, George Clooney, Angelina Jolie, etc.) but it will always be "Porn Star Jenna Jameson". It is hard for anyone to cope with the world when that world is predisposed to judge him or her as inherently bad.
[BTW - I can't stand how sexual content is ostracized but extreme forms of violence are accepted. In film if you show a penis getting mangled it has an "R" rating, but if you show an erect penis: automatic "NC-17"! (Or "XXX" depending on what one does with it) Why is society so paranoid about a natural biological function that is necessary for the continuation of the human race? I think the world would be better if we taught kids how to fuck instead of how to kill.]
I don't need to go into the dangers of AIDS and STD's in an industry based in sex. While there are a lot more safeguards in place today than there were before, no prevention ever 100% effective. There are even reasons for not using condoms in productions (I have read that they cause irritation during long sex scenes shoots and that the buying public prefers to not see them). Most performers get tested monthly and I am sure that each testing period is stressful .
[Another BTW - If you care about what happens to the people in this industry you might consider donating to the Adult Industry Medical Healthcare Foundation (AIM) , a non-profit corporation dedicated to the well-being of sex and adult industry workers. The Bill Gates Foundation and the Pugh Charitable Trust probably aren't donating - maybe you should.]
Some of the people I follow also act as escorts - these are the people I worry about most. Aside from it being illegal, escorts have the potential of putting themselves into harm's way. When you are a performer, you are usually dealing with someone you have worked with before or you know someone who has worked with him/her. Escorting puts you in contact with strangers - any one of which could be dangerous. While the women I follow say they screen their clients, as I've said before nothing is perfect. I live in Boston, so I am quite familiar with the Craigslist Killer - a man who robbed and eventually killed escorts he found on Craigslist. I can't help but think of him whenever I see a tweet about escorting.
If you think I'm exaggerating all this in order to make this entry more dramatic, go to this web site and count the number of deaths due to AIDS, drug use, suicide. and violence. I don't know if these problems occur at a higher rate for sex performers, but it sure seems like it.
It takes an emotionally strong person to be part of the sex industry. They have to handle all the issues I've mentioned and be able to live their lives. All of the women I follow seem to have strong emotional support - husbands, boyfriends, families, and friends (including each other). They seem to be coping with and even thriving in the sex industry.
But it doesn't stop me from worrying about them.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Twitter, Porn Stars and Me
In my pursuit of all things porno, I have a great deal of appreciation for the internet and how it has evolved over the years. I started out with the 30 second porn clips on crude web sites, then moved on to chat rooms on Yahoo, exchanging pictures via email, video chat, and downloading full scenes and movies from torrent sites (I may go into more detail about some of these in a later posting). Being an old fellow, I pretty much ignored social networking - if I didn't know you or haven't talked to you in years, why should I be interested in what you have to say? Sure, I found a couple of interesting sites on MySpace, but it wasn't worth joining the site.
Then I heard about something called twitter, which by its description sounded like the most annoying thing I could think of. Broadcasting messages about yourself indiscriminately on the internet all day long? How conceited is that? Who honestly believes anyone cares about everything they are doing (except Ashton Kutcher)?
What changed my mind was Bill Simmons the Sports Guy (http://twitter.com/sportsguy33). He is a humorous sport columnist who does articles and podcasts for ESPN. At one time he shared my opinion about twitter. Then he started using it to comment on sporting events as they happen and to advertise when new articles and podcasts were posted. I decided to sign up to follow him.
When you sign up for any internet site two things happens: you get spam and you explore all the features. Twitter is rather interesting to explore; you can see who is following and who follows each other. As you jump from person to person, you can get some really interesting glimpses of people (yes, I admit I was wrong). I was just planning on following Bill, but then I picked up on other sites like The Onion (http://twitter.com/TheOnion), Shit my dad says (http://twitter.com/shitmydadsays) and other funny posters.
One day, out of curiosity, I typed in one of my favorite porn star's name. Much to my surprise, I found her. And then I looked at who she follows. And so on.
I had to get me some of this.
The first thing I did was make a new twitter account just for the purpose of following adult actresses - I don't really want people to know what I do in my spare time (I might want to run for public office someday - HA!). I then started following some of the stars. A portion of their tweets are announcements of appearances, updates to their pay websites, etc. But I found out a lot of interesting things:
So what the heck, I tweeted them.
And they tweet me back! One actually follows ME!
I'm not after any kind of a sexual thrill from these interactions. I just like having conversations with them. I know it isn't really friendship, but we have back and forth tweets and I can make them laugh. I'm glad I have the opportunity to know them beyond what I've seen. And who knows, maybe they’re glad to know me?
Then I heard about something called twitter, which by its description sounded like the most annoying thing I could think of. Broadcasting messages about yourself indiscriminately on the internet all day long? How conceited is that? Who honestly believes anyone cares about everything they are doing (except Ashton Kutcher)?
What changed my mind was Bill Simmons the Sports Guy (http://twitter.com/sportsguy33). He is a humorous sport columnist who does articles and podcasts for ESPN. At one time he shared my opinion about twitter. Then he started using it to comment on sporting events as they happen and to advertise when new articles and podcasts were posted. I decided to sign up to follow him.
When you sign up for any internet site two things happens: you get spam and you explore all the features. Twitter is rather interesting to explore; you can see who is following and who follows each other. As you jump from person to person, you can get some really interesting glimpses of people (yes, I admit I was wrong). I was just planning on following Bill, but then I picked up on other sites like The Onion (http://twitter.com/TheOnion), Shit my dad says (http://twitter.com/shitmydadsays) and other funny posters.
One day, out of curiosity, I typed in one of my favorite porn star's name. Much to my surprise, I found her. And then I looked at who she follows. And so on.
I had to get me some of this.
The first thing I did was make a new twitter account just for the purpose of following adult actresses - I don't really want people to know what I do in my spare time (I might want to run for public office someday - HA!). I then started following some of the stars. A portion of their tweets are announcements of appearances, updates to their pay websites, etc. But I found out a lot of interesting things:
- Most of them have pets that they post pictures of on Twitter pix sites
- They have incredible travel schedules and the usual travel problems: late flights, lost luggage, etc.
- They like to eat
- They like to kid around with their friends
- Some are married with kids or are in a steady relationship
So what the heck, I tweeted them.
And they tweet me back! One actually follows ME!
I'm not after any kind of a sexual thrill from these interactions. I just like having conversations with them. I know it isn't really friendship, but we have back and forth tweets and I can make them laugh. I'm glad I have the opportunity to know them beyond what I've seen. And who knows, maybe they’re glad to know me?
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Porn Themes I Don’t Like (First in a Series)
The internet has opened a vast array of porn to the average web surfer. I, being an above average surfer, have found almost more than I can handle. Just as impressive as the amount of porn available is the variety. Frankly, I have seen things I never knew existed. Some of these remind me of the old joke that the bravest person in the history of the world was the first person who drank milk (See those things hanging below that animal? I’m going over there and pull on them and whatever comes out, I’m going to drink!). I would love to know what prompted the first people who ever did some of this stuff.
As a discriminating consumer, I have compiled a list of what I like and what I don’t like. I will be sharing both lists over time, as the variety of available themes far exceeds what should go in a single blog post (you can tell from my previous posts I am fairly long-winded and addicted to asides). Use these list to judge if, should you ever meet me, you would say “Pleased to meet you” and share a cup of coffee or you would beat me over the head violently with a dead skunk – which by the way is on my list of dislikes.
I’m not saying that these themes should be outlawed. Any consensual act between people that does not do permanent harm should not be anyone’s business (I draw the line at such things as mutilation and child porn). I’m just saying that sites that advertise things such as “Watch me fuck an iguana” will not be getting my viewership.
So, in no particular order, my dislikes:
Facials
I know these are the ending shot of almost every video that has a guy in it, but they just don’t appeal to me. Frankly, I feel that they are very disrespectful to the person receiving. I understand that seeing the male orgasm is required viewing (here’s a question: why?), but to see his partner’s face turned into a gooey mess just detracts from my enjoyment. Give me the belly shot, the pearl necklace, or just pull out and cum on her ass - my favorite. There’s something about seeing a load on a round bottom that I find appealing.
Gang Bangs
I don’t understand the attraction to these. You don’t get a very good look at the girl. There are always guys jacking off in the background. It doesn’t look very comfortable at all for anybody. And the final shot is almost always a bunch of guys practically drowning the poor girl in sperm.
A variation to this is the “how many men can the star handle “videos (I.e. “The Houston 500”). It isn’t really my idea of fucking (six pumps, bring in the next guy). How anyone can get a woody from that is beyond me.
Extreme Anal
Similar to facials, a high percentage of male/female videos have anal sex in them. Now, I can accept that there must be some kind of sexual satisfaction for the bottom, seeing that it is a major part of male gay sex. I admit getting turned on by the up-against-the-wall pull-up-the-skirt pull-down the thong get-down-to-it scenario. I also admit there are videos with women that have a reasonably sized butt plug in them that do it for me (there is one Gauge and Aurora Snow video where the plug has a horse tail that is just outstanding). However, there are limits. First, whatever is going up there should be smaller than a ping pong ball. Second, I am really turned off when they have shots where the asshole is the size of a manhole. Finally, the shot where the girl is forcing the sperm back out? Is that really necessary?
Fisting
The thought of turning a person into a hand puppet doesn’t do a thing for me. Four fingers – that’s the limit.
Scat
Peeing and crapping on each other? Yuck! (Again, who first came up with this?)
By the way, I have seen the infamous “Two Girls and a Cup” video. I don’t know if it is because I’m not surprised by how people can behave or because I have a strong stomach, but I didn’t scream or cover my eyes or run out of the room. I didn’t get any kind of enjoyment out of it, but it didn’t get to me.
Overuse of Blowjobs
Look, I enjoy watching a good blowjob. There are a number of women out there that do a tremendous job. But it is only one aspect of porn. I want to get to the fucking in a reasonable amount of time. When the blowjob portion is over half the length of the video it is too much. And many times, after an extremely long blow job finally leads to some screwing, they go back and do some more! Enough is enough!
As an aside, I would like to confess here that I have never gotten one. Yup, 54 years old and never been sucked. It is the only thing on my bucket list (Meeting the president vs. getting a blowjob? Let me just drop trou). Perhaps this is a factor in my dislike of prolonged bj scenes.
Close-ups of Genitalia
I get that the major difference between softcore and hardcore porn is actually showing dicks and pussies. But ten straight minutes of looking at a close-up of a guy’s hairy butt and dangling balls? No thank you. Give me a long shot. Heaving bodies and facial reactions all at once – now you’re talking!
To be continued …
As a discriminating consumer, I have compiled a list of what I like and what I don’t like. I will be sharing both lists over time, as the variety of available themes far exceeds what should go in a single blog post (you can tell from my previous posts I am fairly long-winded and addicted to asides). Use these list to judge if, should you ever meet me, you would say “Pleased to meet you” and share a cup of coffee or you would beat me over the head violently with a dead skunk – which by the way is on my list of dislikes.
I’m not saying that these themes should be outlawed. Any consensual act between people that does not do permanent harm should not be anyone’s business (I draw the line at such things as mutilation and child porn). I’m just saying that sites that advertise things such as “Watch me fuck an iguana” will not be getting my viewership.
So, in no particular order, my dislikes:
Facials
I know these are the ending shot of almost every video that has a guy in it, but they just don’t appeal to me. Frankly, I feel that they are very disrespectful to the person receiving. I understand that seeing the male orgasm is required viewing (here’s a question: why?), but to see his partner’s face turned into a gooey mess just detracts from my enjoyment. Give me the belly shot, the pearl necklace, or just pull out and cum on her ass - my favorite. There’s something about seeing a load on a round bottom that I find appealing.
Gang Bangs
I don’t understand the attraction to these. You don’t get a very good look at the girl. There are always guys jacking off in the background. It doesn’t look very comfortable at all for anybody. And the final shot is almost always a bunch of guys practically drowning the poor girl in sperm.
A variation to this is the “how many men can the star handle “videos (I.e. “The Houston 500”). It isn’t really my idea of fucking (six pumps, bring in the next guy). How anyone can get a woody from that is beyond me.
Extreme Anal
Similar to facials, a high percentage of male/female videos have anal sex in them. Now, I can accept that there must be some kind of sexual satisfaction for the bottom, seeing that it is a major part of male gay sex. I admit getting turned on by the up-against-the-wall pull-up-the-skirt pull-down the thong get-down-to-it scenario. I also admit there are videos with women that have a reasonably sized butt plug in them that do it for me (there is one Gauge and Aurora Snow video where the plug has a horse tail that is just outstanding). However, there are limits. First, whatever is going up there should be smaller than a ping pong ball. Second, I am really turned off when they have shots where the asshole is the size of a manhole. Finally, the shot where the girl is forcing the sperm back out? Is that really necessary?
Fisting
The thought of turning a person into a hand puppet doesn’t do a thing for me. Four fingers – that’s the limit.
Scat
Peeing and crapping on each other? Yuck! (Again, who first came up with this?)
By the way, I have seen the infamous “Two Girls and a Cup” video. I don’t know if it is because I’m not surprised by how people can behave or because I have a strong stomach, but I didn’t scream or cover my eyes or run out of the room. I didn’t get any kind of enjoyment out of it, but it didn’t get to me.
Overuse of Blowjobs
Look, I enjoy watching a good blowjob. There are a number of women out there that do a tremendous job. But it is only one aspect of porn. I want to get to the fucking in a reasonable amount of time. When the blowjob portion is over half the length of the video it is too much. And many times, after an extremely long blow job finally leads to some screwing, they go back and do some more! Enough is enough!
As an aside, I would like to confess here that I have never gotten one. Yup, 54 years old and never been sucked. It is the only thing on my bucket list (Meeting the president vs. getting a blowjob? Let me just drop trou). Perhaps this is a factor in my dislike of prolonged bj scenes.
Close-ups of Genitalia
I get that the major difference between softcore and hardcore porn is actually showing dicks and pussies. But ten straight minutes of looking at a close-up of a guy’s hairy butt and dangling balls? No thank you. Give me a long shot. Heaving bodies and facial reactions all at once – now you’re talking!
To be continued …
Susannah Breslin on recession and adult biz
Susannah Breslin (of Reverse Cowgirl Blog fame) has created a web site They Shoot Porn Stars, Don't They? which hosts her photo essay on the current state of the porn industry. Although it concentrates a bit too much on Jim Powers (the porn producer, not the wrestler) for my taste, it is an interesting read.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
My Two Most Embarrassing Porn Moments
Porn has been a part of my life since the time I saw a grainy film projected against a sheet in a friend’s cellar. Since then I have watched, read, written, drawn, listened to, and spoken sexually explicit material by myself or with others. I have no idea the total amount I have experienced. I experienced it through the years according to what was available: Playboy/Penthouse/Hardcore magazines during the print era, rentals during the video store period, and finally the internet downloads of today. I have had a number of periods where I collected it. I would gather porn steadily until I reached a saturation point. Then either the total amount I had or a wave of catholic guilt over what I was doing overwhelmed me and I threw out what I had. Currently I am back downloading internet porn (I have a WD Passport with 152 GB) and I really don’t see myself stopping any time soon (or at least until I reach the 320 GB maximum).
When I collect I have managed to keep my cache hidden from the people I’ve lived with. I had hidden storage areas throughout my home and password protected sections of hard drives (even ones that were shared with my family). I managed to indulge my urges surreptitiously (which has included sneaking a laptop into the bathroom for private viewing) and almost never got caught. Almost….
My first embarrassing moment came in the seventh grade. While I didn’t really have access to porn at that time, I was starting to get an appreciation of women from my comic books. Wonder Woman, Zatanna, the Black Widow: some had fishnets, some had low cut tops, all had bodies that wouldn’t quit. I especially liked when they were unconscious and carried off over the shoulder (a fetish I still like to this day – especially naked OTS).
Another activity I was starting to appreciate was catfighting. There was just something exciting watching women fight – especially if the participants were in skimpy clothing. I only had brief moments of experience with this – a movie here; a television show there. Professional wrestling had its moments, but unfortunately the Fabulous Moolah wasn’t all that stimulating.
My final inspiration was the S twins – two blond sisters that could have be members of the Swedish Bikini Team when they grew up. They were just starting to bloom and all the boys in my class were aware of it at some level (just like that South Park episode). Due to our school arranging our desks in alphabetical order, they sat in the row to the left of me and one desk behind. We talked a little, but we weren’t friends.
One day I dropped my pen and had to lean down to pick it up. It had rolled, so my head was practically touching the ground when I got it. I was pulling myself back up when I happened to glance back.
And I had a clear view right up one of the S twin’s skirt. I could see the “v” of her white flowered panties between her legs. It was the best thing I had ever seen.
I quickly pulled myself up, a mixture of fear, shame, and desire flooding over me. I was going to hell. I had seen heaven. I couldn’t tell anyone what I had seen. I wanted to shout a cry of triumph. I was pretty much useless for the rest of the day.
During the next few days I was a nervous wreck. I was certain that the D twin knew what I had seen and had reported me. I waited for the teacher to punish me; my parents to scream at me. I was living on borrowed time.
Eventually I realized that nothing was going to happen to me. I had gotten away with it! At first I was relieved, but then a new thought occurred to me. If I wasn’t caught, maybe I could do it again. I picked up my pencil and contemplated what I was about to do. Fear fought a losing battle with lust. A slight toss and the pencil went sailing into the aisle. I leaned over, picked up the pencil, and nonchalantly (I hoped) looked back. The panties were pink this time.
I developed a case of the “dropsies” - spreading out my pen drops to avoid suspicion. Eventually I became quite familiar with the S twin’s underwear collection. It was fantastic.
When I wasn’t staring at the S twin’s crotch, I was expanding my comic book collection. I decided that when I grew up I was going to draw comic books for DC. I began copying panels from my comics as a way to train myself. I went from heroes to heroines to heroes carrying heroines to heroines carrying heroines to heroines catfighting. In all honesty I was quite good at it.
In school one day after a particularly good panty view I came up with the ultimate combination: superheroines in underwear first catfighting, then tying up the losers and carrying them off OTS. I was stunned by the brilliance of the concept. It was an idea that could not wait. During study time I began drawing a fight scene in my notebook. I had heroines in bearhugs, heroines in head scissors, face-to-face holds, 2-on-1’s, etc. All the participants were in scanty underwear (I had their initials on their panties so you could tell who was who).
I got so engrossed with my drawing I neglected to check on my surroundings. The guy sitting next to me caught a glimpse of what I was doing and before I could stop him he grabbed my notebook away from me.
“Whatcha doing?” he asked. He took a good long look at my work. [I have to take a small break here to mention that my school reputation was threefold: I was the smartest male student, I was short and squat, and I was a “good” kid.] My classmate saw my work as an opportunity to bring me down a few pegs. “Hey, Mrs. K [our teacher], look what V is doing!” Mrs. K, who was already on her way over when she saw him grab my notebook, took it from him and looked inside.
“I’m just practicing my drawing…” was all I managed to get out. Mrs. K’s eyes widened. “Oh my God” was all she said. She looked at me with a combination of shock and amusement. I wanted to crawl inside my desk and never come out. Without another word she handed me back my notebook. Everybody in the class was looking at me, wondering what I had done. I immediately started erasing my drawing. What I had done would soon be known, but there would be no evidence. It took several weeks for the laughing and teasing to stop.
My second embarrassment occurred many years later after I had graduated college. I was then old enough to buy porn. In fact, I would occasionally buy it for some of my friends, as they were too embarrassed to buy it themselves.
[I need to take another break here. This was back when Playboy and Penthouse could be found in the general magazine racks. While I did buy them, I had to psych myself up in the store before I could grab one and take it to the store counter. I also had to wait until there was no one else at the counter to see me buy it. I preferred male sales clerks.]
My best friend T had moved to Maryland for a new job. This was the time of really cheap airfare – a round trip ticket cost less than $100. We made plans for me to visit him for a weekend just to hang around and see where he lived. As he was one of my friends who could not buy his own porn, he asked me to bring some of mine with me. I was more than happy to share and on the day of my trip I had around a dozen issues of Playboy in my carry-on bag (including my favorite: August 1972 – Barbara Hershey in Boxcar Bertha, the Girls of Munich, and (sigh) centerfold Linda Summers. Look her up).
While security in those days wasn’t anywhere near what we endure today, carryon bags were x-rayed and people went through metal detectors before they boarded. I had taken a number of airline trips up to that time and had never had any problem with my bags. On this day I put my bag on the conveyer belt, went through the metal detector and went to get my bag. It wasn’t there.
No problem, I thought. Sometimes it takes a while for the bag to go through. So I waited.
“Baggage check,” someone called out.
Hmm, I thought. Someone must have some weird looking thing in their bag. Well, this ought to free my bag up.
“Is this your bag?” A rather good looking woman in uniform was holding my carryon. The full magnitude of what was about to happen hit me like a truck. All I could do was nod. She took my bag over to a table where another good-looking woman joined her. With sweat breaking out on my brow I watched them unzip my bag and saw my Playboys pour out. They both looked at me with an “oh really?” expression.
“I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I told you they were for a friend?” I said with a weak smile. They said nothing, just pushed my bag at me. I could feel their scorn. Without looking at them I shoved the books back in the bag, walked over to my gate with head down, and sat as far away from my fellow travelers as I could.
Needless to say, T had to get his own porn from that day forward.
When I collect I have managed to keep my cache hidden from the people I’ve lived with. I had hidden storage areas throughout my home and password protected sections of hard drives (even ones that were shared with my family). I managed to indulge my urges surreptitiously (which has included sneaking a laptop into the bathroom for private viewing) and almost never got caught. Almost….
My first embarrassing moment came in the seventh grade. While I didn’t really have access to porn at that time, I was starting to get an appreciation of women from my comic books. Wonder Woman, Zatanna, the Black Widow: some had fishnets, some had low cut tops, all had bodies that wouldn’t quit. I especially liked when they were unconscious and carried off over the shoulder (a fetish I still like to this day – especially naked OTS).
Another activity I was starting to appreciate was catfighting. There was just something exciting watching women fight – especially if the participants were in skimpy clothing. I only had brief moments of experience with this – a movie here; a television show there. Professional wrestling had its moments, but unfortunately the Fabulous Moolah wasn’t all that stimulating.
My final inspiration was the S twins – two blond sisters that could have be members of the Swedish Bikini Team when they grew up. They were just starting to bloom and all the boys in my class were aware of it at some level (just like that South Park episode). Due to our school arranging our desks in alphabetical order, they sat in the row to the left of me and one desk behind. We talked a little, but we weren’t friends.
One day I dropped my pen and had to lean down to pick it up. It had rolled, so my head was practically touching the ground when I got it. I was pulling myself back up when I happened to glance back.
And I had a clear view right up one of the S twin’s skirt. I could see the “v” of her white flowered panties between her legs. It was the best thing I had ever seen.
I quickly pulled myself up, a mixture of fear, shame, and desire flooding over me. I was going to hell. I had seen heaven. I couldn’t tell anyone what I had seen. I wanted to shout a cry of triumph. I was pretty much useless for the rest of the day.
During the next few days I was a nervous wreck. I was certain that the D twin knew what I had seen and had reported me. I waited for the teacher to punish me; my parents to scream at me. I was living on borrowed time.
Eventually I realized that nothing was going to happen to me. I had gotten away with it! At first I was relieved, but then a new thought occurred to me. If I wasn’t caught, maybe I could do it again. I picked up my pencil and contemplated what I was about to do. Fear fought a losing battle with lust. A slight toss and the pencil went sailing into the aisle. I leaned over, picked up the pencil, and nonchalantly (I hoped) looked back. The panties were pink this time.
I developed a case of the “dropsies” - spreading out my pen drops to avoid suspicion. Eventually I became quite familiar with the S twin’s underwear collection. It was fantastic.
When I wasn’t staring at the S twin’s crotch, I was expanding my comic book collection. I decided that when I grew up I was going to draw comic books for DC. I began copying panels from my comics as a way to train myself. I went from heroes to heroines to heroes carrying heroines to heroines carrying heroines to heroines catfighting. In all honesty I was quite good at it.
In school one day after a particularly good panty view I came up with the ultimate combination: superheroines in underwear first catfighting, then tying up the losers and carrying them off OTS. I was stunned by the brilliance of the concept. It was an idea that could not wait. During study time I began drawing a fight scene in my notebook. I had heroines in bearhugs, heroines in head scissors, face-to-face holds, 2-on-1’s, etc. All the participants were in scanty underwear (I had their initials on their panties so you could tell who was who).
I got so engrossed with my drawing I neglected to check on my surroundings. The guy sitting next to me caught a glimpse of what I was doing and before I could stop him he grabbed my notebook away from me.
“Whatcha doing?” he asked. He took a good long look at my work. [I have to take a small break here to mention that my school reputation was threefold: I was the smartest male student, I was short and squat, and I was a “good” kid.] My classmate saw my work as an opportunity to bring me down a few pegs. “Hey, Mrs. K [our teacher], look what V is doing!” Mrs. K, who was already on her way over when she saw him grab my notebook, took it from him and looked inside.
“I’m just practicing my drawing…” was all I managed to get out. Mrs. K’s eyes widened. “Oh my God” was all she said. She looked at me with a combination of shock and amusement. I wanted to crawl inside my desk and never come out. Without another word she handed me back my notebook. Everybody in the class was looking at me, wondering what I had done. I immediately started erasing my drawing. What I had done would soon be known, but there would be no evidence. It took several weeks for the laughing and teasing to stop.
My second embarrassment occurred many years later after I had graduated college. I was then old enough to buy porn. In fact, I would occasionally buy it for some of my friends, as they were too embarrassed to buy it themselves.
[I need to take another break here. This was back when Playboy and Penthouse could be found in the general magazine racks. While I did buy them, I had to psych myself up in the store before I could grab one and take it to the store counter. I also had to wait until there was no one else at the counter to see me buy it. I preferred male sales clerks.]
My best friend T had moved to Maryland for a new job. This was the time of really cheap airfare – a round trip ticket cost less than $100. We made plans for me to visit him for a weekend just to hang around and see where he lived. As he was one of my friends who could not buy his own porn, he asked me to bring some of mine with me. I was more than happy to share and on the day of my trip I had around a dozen issues of Playboy in my carry-on bag (including my favorite: August 1972 – Barbara Hershey in Boxcar Bertha, the Girls of Munich, and (sigh) centerfold Linda Summers. Look her up).
While security in those days wasn’t anywhere near what we endure today, carryon bags were x-rayed and people went through metal detectors before they boarded. I had taken a number of airline trips up to that time and had never had any problem with my bags. On this day I put my bag on the conveyer belt, went through the metal detector and went to get my bag. It wasn’t there.
No problem, I thought. Sometimes it takes a while for the bag to go through. So I waited.
“Baggage check,” someone called out.
Hmm, I thought. Someone must have some weird looking thing in their bag. Well, this ought to free my bag up.
“Is this your bag?” A rather good looking woman in uniform was holding my carryon. The full magnitude of what was about to happen hit me like a truck. All I could do was nod. She took my bag over to a table where another good-looking woman joined her. With sweat breaking out on my brow I watched them unzip my bag and saw my Playboys pour out. They both looked at me with an “oh really?” expression.
“I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I told you they were for a friend?” I said with a weak smile. They said nothing, just pushed my bag at me. I could feel their scorn. Without looking at them I shoved the books back in the bag, walked over to my gate with head down, and sat as far away from my fellow travelers as I could.
Needless to say, T had to get his own porn from that day forward.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
How I discovered the alternate use for my penis
George Carlin did a routine about young girls and banisters. The basis of the routine was that young girls discovered masturbation from the sensations they felt when sliding down banisters. I don’t know about little girls but it sure was the way I found out.
Many years ago I was a pretty average kid that ran around with friends playing games, climbing trees, doing all the usual guy stuff; etc. One of my friends lived on an upper floor. We would go to his apartment to play Strat-O-Matic baseball or some board game. When we left his apartment, we would slide down the banisters to each floor. We did this for years.
One time, when I was sliding down the banister I had a feeling that I had never felt before. It was a slight, but nice feeling right at the place where I sat on the banister. I noticed it again the next time I went down the banister. And the time after that.
After a few more times, I noticed that I got the greatest sensation when I slid down on my taint. While this was vital information, I couldn’t really explore it further. My friends were noticing that I was a little slow getting off the banister and I had a tendency for going back up the stairs and sliding down again. I had to stop for a while.
Stopping left me in a frustrated state. I was getting hooked on the feeling. I had to find another source. I lived in a triple-decker. While the back stairs had a banister, the stairs were in a tight spiral – not suitable for sliding on. At best, all I could do was lie on it. Being desperate, I tried it. I adjusting myself so my taint rested right on the railing. Since I couldn’t slide on it, I tried rocking on it, swinging my legs back and forth. Oh ho! The nice feeling was starting again. I pumped my legs a bit more – oh yeah! The feeling was coming back.
For a few weeks I indulged myself on the back stairs, but I knew this would not be an adequate substitution. First of all I was at home; I knew instinctively that this behavior was not something my mother should find me doing. Secondly, the backstairs banister wasn’t all that sturdy. I could easily see breaking it as I got more and more enthusiastic about my rocking. I had to find still another substitute.
I found the solution as I was sitting in the only place that I was guaranteed privacy – the bathroom. As I sat and thought about my situation, I noticed the bathtub. In a way, the side of the bathtub resembled a banister (at least in my banister-obsessed mind). I straddled the edge of the tub – one leg in, one leg out. I positioned myself on my taint and since I was on my hands and knees I was able to rub against the tub just that way. Oh yeah, this was perfect.
After a few days with my new play space, I began to notice that the edge of the tub was getting dirty. I realized this was due to my pants zipper and snap rubbing against it. Naturally, the solution was to take my pants off. This led to two immediate problems: my tighty whities weren’t as slippery as my pants and the tub was cold. I gave it my best shot, but it just wasn’t as satisfying.
Again, the obvious solution was right in the tub. I took off my underwear and soaped up the side of the tub. Now I had the slipperiest banister of them all. I still had a temperature problem, but between using warm water to soap up the tub and the heat generated by my rubbing, it soon warmed up.
I was in heaven. I did get some complaints about how long I took in the bathroom, but no one suspected a thing. Rubbing the tub was almost a daily routine. The easiest time was right after a bath: wash, soap, mount, and slide. I eventually switched from soaping the tub to just soaping myself – getting my balls and penis all slippery added to my enjoyment.
As time went by, a few thorns started to appear. First, I realized I was putting a lot of pressure on my balls. I tried to relieve the pressure with my arms and legs, but I needed to press down to get the feeling - which was increasing the more I did it. I also noticed that the underside of my penis developed a flat section right under the tip – it almost looked like I was wearing it down. It worried me – not enough to make me stop, but it was troubling.
Then something really strange was starting to happen. My penis started getting hard when I did my rubbing. It was strange – it would get soft again when I stopped, but it kept getting hard. It confused the hell out of me. I eventually figured out that this was the “boner” that my friends referred to. Ignorant guy that I was I did not know what that meant.
The hardness of my penis interfered with my rubbing. I had to press down with my stomach to get it to lie flat on the tub so I could rub. It was a struggle to adjust my balls, press down on my penis, and stay lubed up all during my rubbing, but I wasn’t going to let anything stop me from getting that feeling. As I had said before, the feelings were getting stronger the more I rubbed. I could sense that there was still something missing, some goal I was close to achieving but hadn’t quite gotten. I kept at it almost daily until it all came together (in all sense of the word).
One day I was rubbing away when the feeling started getting stronger than I had ever felt before. It kept getting stronger the more I rubbed. I kept going – faster and faster, harder and harder until finally – OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT!!!! The feeling exploded inside me (which was fantastic) and then something came out of my penis (which was scary) It didn’t feel at all like pee. I sat up and looked. What the hell is that white goo? OH MY GOD! IT”S MY BALLS! I CRUSHED MY BALLS AND IT CAME OUT OF MY DICK!
My panic was strong. The goo was very yucky – I couldn’t tell how much there was because of all the soap I had used. I had no idea what I had done to myself. I had to tell my mother so she could get me to the hospital! I sought frantically for an story that would explain my physical situation without getting into what I had been doing. Fortunately I calmed down enough to reason things out. I wasn’t in any pain – in fact I had just had the most pleasurable moment of my life. My balls seemed pretty solid. There was no blood. Then what the hell… wait a minute. I thought about the jokes and stories my friends had told me over the years. That goo wasn’t my balls; it was cum! I came! I actually came!!! Boner, cuming, cum – it all made sense! Geez, no wonder people tried to cum, that was awesome!
I kept on my soapy rubbing hobby for many weeks after that, thoroughly hooked, until I finally figured out how to jack off. I was quite happy with the change: it was a lot simpler, easier to clean up after and didn’t crush my balls.
Many years ago I was a pretty average kid that ran around with friends playing games, climbing trees, doing all the usual guy stuff; etc. One of my friends lived on an upper floor. We would go to his apartment to play Strat-O-Matic baseball or some board game. When we left his apartment, we would slide down the banisters to each floor. We did this for years.
One time, when I was sliding down the banister I had a feeling that I had never felt before. It was a slight, but nice feeling right at the place where I sat on the banister. I noticed it again the next time I went down the banister. And the time after that.
After a few more times, I noticed that I got the greatest sensation when I slid down on my taint. While this was vital information, I couldn’t really explore it further. My friends were noticing that I was a little slow getting off the banister and I had a tendency for going back up the stairs and sliding down again. I had to stop for a while.
Stopping left me in a frustrated state. I was getting hooked on the feeling. I had to find another source. I lived in a triple-decker. While the back stairs had a banister, the stairs were in a tight spiral – not suitable for sliding on. At best, all I could do was lie on it. Being desperate, I tried it. I adjusting myself so my taint rested right on the railing. Since I couldn’t slide on it, I tried rocking on it, swinging my legs back and forth. Oh ho! The nice feeling was starting again. I pumped my legs a bit more – oh yeah! The feeling was coming back.
For a few weeks I indulged myself on the back stairs, but I knew this would not be an adequate substitution. First of all I was at home; I knew instinctively that this behavior was not something my mother should find me doing. Secondly, the backstairs banister wasn’t all that sturdy. I could easily see breaking it as I got more and more enthusiastic about my rocking. I had to find still another substitute.
I found the solution as I was sitting in the only place that I was guaranteed privacy – the bathroom. As I sat and thought about my situation, I noticed the bathtub. In a way, the side of the bathtub resembled a banister (at least in my banister-obsessed mind). I straddled the edge of the tub – one leg in, one leg out. I positioned myself on my taint and since I was on my hands and knees I was able to rub against the tub just that way. Oh yeah, this was perfect.
After a few days with my new play space, I began to notice that the edge of the tub was getting dirty. I realized this was due to my pants zipper and snap rubbing against it. Naturally, the solution was to take my pants off. This led to two immediate problems: my tighty whities weren’t as slippery as my pants and the tub was cold. I gave it my best shot, but it just wasn’t as satisfying.
Again, the obvious solution was right in the tub. I took off my underwear and soaped up the side of the tub. Now I had the slipperiest banister of them all. I still had a temperature problem, but between using warm water to soap up the tub and the heat generated by my rubbing, it soon warmed up.
I was in heaven. I did get some complaints about how long I took in the bathroom, but no one suspected a thing. Rubbing the tub was almost a daily routine. The easiest time was right after a bath: wash, soap, mount, and slide. I eventually switched from soaping the tub to just soaping myself – getting my balls and penis all slippery added to my enjoyment.
As time went by, a few thorns started to appear. First, I realized I was putting a lot of pressure on my balls. I tried to relieve the pressure with my arms and legs, but I needed to press down to get the feeling - which was increasing the more I did it. I also noticed that the underside of my penis developed a flat section right under the tip – it almost looked like I was wearing it down. It worried me – not enough to make me stop, but it was troubling.
Then something really strange was starting to happen. My penis started getting hard when I did my rubbing. It was strange – it would get soft again when I stopped, but it kept getting hard. It confused the hell out of me. I eventually figured out that this was the “boner” that my friends referred to. Ignorant guy that I was I did not know what that meant.
The hardness of my penis interfered with my rubbing. I had to press down with my stomach to get it to lie flat on the tub so I could rub. It was a struggle to adjust my balls, press down on my penis, and stay lubed up all during my rubbing, but I wasn’t going to let anything stop me from getting that feeling. As I had said before, the feelings were getting stronger the more I rubbed. I could sense that there was still something missing, some goal I was close to achieving but hadn’t quite gotten. I kept at it almost daily until it all came together (in all sense of the word).
One day I was rubbing away when the feeling started getting stronger than I had ever felt before. It kept getting stronger the more I rubbed. I kept going – faster and faster, harder and harder until finally – OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT!!!! The feeling exploded inside me (which was fantastic) and then something came out of my penis (which was scary) It didn’t feel at all like pee. I sat up and looked. What the hell is that white goo? OH MY GOD! IT”S MY BALLS! I CRUSHED MY BALLS AND IT CAME OUT OF MY DICK!
My panic was strong. The goo was very yucky – I couldn’t tell how much there was because of all the soap I had used. I had no idea what I had done to myself. I had to tell my mother so she could get me to the hospital! I sought frantically for an story that would explain my physical situation without getting into what I had been doing. Fortunately I calmed down enough to reason things out. I wasn’t in any pain – in fact I had just had the most pleasurable moment of my life. My balls seemed pretty solid. There was no blood. Then what the hell… wait a minute. I thought about the jokes and stories my friends had told me over the years. That goo wasn’t my balls; it was cum! I came! I actually came!!! Boner, cuming, cum – it all made sense! Geez, no wonder people tried to cum, that was awesome!
I kept on my soapy rubbing hobby for many weeks after that, thoroughly hooked, until I finally figured out how to jack off. I was quite happy with the change: it was a lot simpler, easier to clean up after and didn’t crush my balls.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
First - a Public Service Announcement
Stephanie Swift is one of my favorite adult film stars. She has been in the business since 1995 and has appeared in over 370 films. She has a very distinctive look that I find to be her most attractive feature.
In August, Stephanie was diagnosed with breast cancer. She has had a double mastectomy to try to stop the spread of the disease. Since then they have discovered that the cancer has spread to her lymph nodes and will require another operation.
The original operation had to be delayed because of the cost of the procedure. Needless to say, the adult film industry is not known for its employee benefits. The cost of that operation and the additional one is putting a severe financial burden on Ms. Swift. (While I am going to stay away from political topics in this blog, doesn't this situation demonstrate the overwhelming need for universal health care in the US?)
A fund has been set up to gather contributions for Ms. Swift's medical expenses. I have donated to it and would encourage anyone who has enjoyed her performances to do so. Send your contributions to:
Stephanie Swift Cancer Fund
P.O. Box 9864
Canoga Park CA 91309
Checks should be made out to Stephanie's mother, Heidi Clark.
You can find out more about the fund HERE or by doing an internet search on "Stephanie Swift breast cancer"
In August, Stephanie was diagnosed with breast cancer. She has had a double mastectomy to try to stop the spread of the disease. Since then they have discovered that the cancer has spread to her lymph nodes and will require another operation.
The original operation had to be delayed because of the cost of the procedure. Needless to say, the adult film industry is not known for its employee benefits. The cost of that operation and the additional one is putting a severe financial burden on Ms. Swift. (While I am going to stay away from political topics in this blog, doesn't this situation demonstrate the overwhelming need for universal health care in the US?)
A fund has been set up to gather contributions for Ms. Swift's medical expenses. I have donated to it and would encourage anyone who has enjoyed her performances to do so. Send your contributions to:
Stephanie Swift Cancer Fund
P.O. Box 9864
Canoga Park CA 91309
Checks should be made out to Stephanie's mother, Heidi Clark.
You can find out more about the fund HERE or by doing an internet search on "Stephanie Swift breast cancer"
An Introduction
Basically, I am a 50+ year old overweight white male of Italian descent who has been married for close to 30 years and has had "actual sex" twice in the last 14 years (I attempted it more than that - I will get to that in later posts). I am, however, oversexed - throughout my life I have tried to have some form of sexual activity several times over the course of a day (sexual activity for me includes looking at a naked woman, making a double entente, all the way to the act).
This blog will be a history of those efforts (the act of writing this blog is in itself a form of such activity). I doubt the result will be overly titillating (except to someone like me, perhaps) but I hope it will be somewhat entertaining. I am not trying to justify my activities - merely chronicle them.
I may occasionally make a comment on the foibles of society, but it is not my intention to comment on religion, politics, or other hot-button issues. I'm here to talk about sex, plain and simple.
If in the end this blog offends any of you - don't read it. The rest of you - welcome.
This blog will be a history of those efforts (the act of writing this blog is in itself a form of such activity). I doubt the result will be overly titillating (except to someone like me, perhaps) but I hope it will be somewhat entertaining. I am not trying to justify my activities - merely chronicle them.
I may occasionally make a comment on the foibles of society, but it is not my intention to comment on religion, politics, or other hot-button issues. I'm here to talk about sex, plain and simple.
If in the end this blog offends any of you - don't read it. The rest of you - welcome.
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